


Learn to Love

by addictiontofiction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Culture Shock, Dom Dean Winchester, Dom Sam Winchester, F/M, How Do I Tag, Jewish Character, Light BDSM, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Nightmares, Past Rape/Non-con, Power Imbalance, Tag As I Go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:51:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictiontofiction/pseuds/addictiontofiction
Summary: Sometimes love comes easily. Sometimes you learn to love. Sometimes it's somewhere in-between.___Or the one where Omega!OFC needs protection and it's provided by Alpha!Sam and Alpha!Dean.





	Learn to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So you've decided to read this mess of a fic? Something to note: The main character is Jewish. I made this choice because I am Jewish and wanted a character like me. All concepts related to Jewishness and Judaism are how they are perceived by me. It is a different experience for every Jew, this entirely based on mine.

Rebecca sighed, evaluating herself in the mirror. Her chocolate brown curls sat in a bun atop her head that she could never seem to get just right, no matter how often she tried. Little wisps of hair framed her delicate face, the deep brown contrasting strikingly with her pale skin. Rebecca tried to ignore the dark circles under her eyes and the way her cheek bones were more prominent than ever, instead focusing on the smatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the way her long lashes accentuated her brown eyes. Her eyes drifted lower in the mirror, down her sunken in cheeks to her slender neck and protruding collar bone. 

_ I look dead, _ Rebecca thought for a fleeting moment. She tore her eyes away from the mirror, suddenly consumed with anger. She was angry at herself, angry at the world. Her eyes landed on the picture frames rested delicately on her vanity. 

 

In the first one, a young girl, sporting a familiar mop of curly brown hair, beamed at the camera, revealing her front teeth to be missing. On one side of her, a woman looking like an older Rebecca stood with a bright smile. Her hair was down, done beautifully and obviously with care. Unlike Rebecca’s though, her hair was straight and frizz-free. On the other side of the girl stood a man looking down at her, all smiles as well. On his head rested a beautiful yarmulke, though his shorter chocolate curls were still visible. 

 

Next to that photo was another. The young girl was a teen now, clearly a younger Rebecca. She smiled shyly at the camera, wearing a simple yet beautiful dress. Her parents were again by her side, both dressed nicely as well. It was her bat mitzvah. Her father was again wearing the same yarmulke, a deep blue that reminded Rebecca of something special. The yarmulke in the photo now rested in a box in her drawer, forever away from the light. 

 

The last photo, only a year or so old, held one less person. Rebecca forced a smile at the camera over the big ‘18’ candles on her cake. Her hair fell in ringlets down her back, perfectly frizzy. Next to her stood her mother, though the years were clearly unkind to her. Her mother’s once youthful face looked tired and old, covered in wrinkles that weren’t previously there. Her hair was no longer carefully done, now thrown into a messy ponytail. Her mother no longer smiled brightly, instead looking serious. 

 

Rebecca let a tear track down her face, not bothering to wipe it immediately. She absorbed the feeling of the droplet racing down her cheek, down her neck, pooling in the concave of her collar bone. She inhaled deeply before wiping it away. 

It was almost time to leave to meet with the boys. For two days now, Rebecca had been debating on if she was actually going to go or not. But she didn’t have much of a choice at this point, they were probably already in town by now.

_____

 

_ Rebecca’s hands trembled as she hurriedly tapped away on a phone, each touch leaving behind a smear of blood. There was so much blood. It was everywhere. Rebecca could barely hear the ringing of the phone over the pounding of her heart. _

_ The ringing stopped and before anyone could answer, Rebecca immediately called out, “John? Hello?”  _

_ The voice on the other end was husky and deep, but it wasn’t John’s. “John’s, uh… not here right now. Who’s this?” _

_ “I need John,” Rebecca whined out, her crying evident in her speech. Rebecca’s mom had always told her that if there was a problem, to call John. And in that moment, there was definitely a problem. _

_ “This is John’s son, Dean. Who’s this? What’s wrong?” _

_ About an hour later, John’s son, Dean, told her that he was on his way with his brother, Sam. That they were a couple states over. That it would take a few days to get to her.  _

 

For the next two days, as she waited, Rebecca wracked her brain, conjuring every memory she could of Sam and Dean. She had only met the boys a couple times, though her mom used to hunt with John, so she knew a few things about them. Rebecca had even been on a hunt with them- her first and only hunt. 

 

_ Rebecca was fourteen, and her mom, after almost a year of hunting, finally let her tag along. On the hunt, Rebecca and her mother met John and his two sons. They were hunting the same vamps, each having a different piece of the puzzle that made it easy to track them down once they decided to work together.  _

_ John was gruff, but seemed to have a big soft spot for her. Dean seemed  like a jerk, she remembered, all knot-head Alpha and no care. But when she scraped her knee, he did patch it up for her. Sam was an Alpha too, though not as much of a jerk. Rebecca remembered he was much more interested in reading than hunting. Both of them stayed pretty distant from her though, both physically and emotionally.  _

_ At the time, she had found that pretty strange. It wasn’t until about a week after Liz and Rebecca got home, when Rebecca woke up in heat, that she realized. They were avoiding her because she smelled like an Omega about to go into heat.  _

 

After that, Rebecca was forbidden from hunting by her Beta mother. Omegas were not to do such dangerous tasks. So she traded in hunting for reading, and became a resource for hunters needing lore information. 

_____

 

Rebecca huffed, adding some lip gloss in an attempt to look more presentable. She slung a  worn lilac backpack over her shoulder. Inside it was only a handgun- for protection, in case an Alpha tried anything. She slipped her phone in her pocket and grabbed her keys, pepper spray dangling innocently on her key ring. Again, for protection. 

Rebecca held her breath as she unlocked doors, having to stop to unlock every door in her path- her bedroom door, the hallway door, the kitchen door, the front door, then the screen door. She’d had them securely locked for two days now,  since everything happened.

Stepping outside almost hurt, every fibre of her being telling her to  **_go back in_ ** **.** But she couldn’t be scared forever. With care to not disturb the salt line, Rebecca stepped out, making sure to lock the front door and screen door behind her. 

 

Her rusty truck sputtered to life, and then she was off to meet with the boys.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos and comments, they're super motivating! <3


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